


a love like war.

by orphan_account, YandereSnake



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - World War II, Angst, Blood and Injury, Emetophobia, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jewish Yuri Plisetsky, M/M, POV Multiple, Period-Typical Discrimination, Slow Burn, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, World War II, no one is happy!!!!, not really but it's talked about, yuri is 17 & otabek is 19
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-09 03:40:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8874358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YandereSnake/pseuds/YandereSnake
Summary: **LOL THIS FIC WILL NEVER BE FINISHED SOZ**I have found that over the course of my short life, that as soon as the world seems to be spinning in my favor, an event occurs that will indefinitely lead to the destruction of my happiness. At age three, my father abandoned my mother and me, leaving us with the little amount of money he didn’t steal to pay for prostitutes and booze. My mother and I were very poor, and so we moved in with her father. At age 11, I lost her to heart disease. Since then, it’s just been Deda and me.And now, at age 17, the world has, so graciously, put me in another one of these life-altering situations.The year is 1941, and the Soviet Union is in the midst of one of the worst wars in the history of the world. They call it the Great Patriotic War. I don’t see what’s so patriotic about sending your men to be slaughtered by an army of Germans.Deda says we have to evacuate to Kazakhstan, that the Germans are going to invade the Soviet Union. That we’re all going to be dead soon if we don’t leave soon. I say that’s a load of bullshit. We’re going to be dead soon no matter what... aka the WWII AU otayuri fic no one asked for





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hello! before anything else i just want to say this was inspired by a text post that sapphiresoulmate on tumblr. so props to them for the idea! 
> 
> this story will follow both yuri & otabek, switching between their POVs each chapter. junaiiper (mae) will write for yuri, and YandereSnake (iva) will write for otabek! 
> 
> this is the first multi-chaptered yoi fic either of us have written so feedback/constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! :)

**7 July 1941**

**Leningrad, Russia**

 

I have found that over the course of my short life, that as soon as the world seems to be spinning in my favor, an event occurs that will indefinitely lead to the destruction of my happiness. At age three, my father abandoned my mother and me, leaving us with the little amount of money he didn’t steal to pay for prostitutes and booze. My mother and I were very poor, and so we moved in with her father. At age 11, I lost her to heart disease. Since then, it’s just been  _ Deda _ and me.

And now, at age 17, the world has, so graciously, put me in another one of these life-altering situations.

The year is 1941, and the Soviet Union is in the midst of one of the worst wars in the history of the world. They call it the Great Patriotic War. I don’t see what’s so patriotic about sending your men to be slaughtered by an army of Germans.

_ Deda _ says we have to evacuate to Kazakhstan, that the Germans are going to invade the Soviet Union. That we’re all going to be dead soon if we don’t leave soon. I say that’s a load of bullshit. We’re going to be dead soon no matter what.

“If we leave, the Germans will follow us, and we’ll be dead anyway,” I told  _ Deda _ . He simply shook his head and told me to pack up my bags.

Now, I stand at the Leningrad railway station, awaiting the train that will take me away from Leningrad, away from the place where I grew up. If I evacuate, I leave my childhood. All the memories I hold of my family, good and bad...I have to leave it all behind.

My memories of my parents are limited but precious. I remember my father reading me bedtime stories, his rich, deep voice never failing to put me to sleep; I remember my mother playing piano, her fingers feather-light on the keys- her favorite piece to play was Очи чёрные (“Dark Eyes”), a Russian folk song. It was simple but beautiful. It reminds me of her, to this day.

I don’t know how to feel about all of this. I never know how to feel about anything.

Perhaps years ago, long before the Great Patriotic War began, a railway station was a place of family, and love; the bustle of the crowd, the excited chatter of those soon to see their family and friends after years of separation providing a sense of comfort. Now, it was anything but that. The Leningrad railway station is devoid of that warm hum of pleasant conversation. The rumbling of approaching trains hardly gave any sense of reassurance; the sound was sure to haunt Yuri for weeks.

“Come, Yuratchka,”  _ Deda _ ’s voice stirs me from my thoughts. He places a firm hand on my shoulder. “The train is about to leave.”  
It will be better in Kazakhstan, I tell myself. I hold my breath and pick up my suitcase. As I step onto the platform of the train, I realize my life will never be the same.


	2. 01 // POV: YURI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wooh ! the first real chapter is UP yo. this one's a bit longer and has actual plot to it lmao 
> 
> small tw for suicide ment. & emetophobia / vomiting. all potential triggers will be marked with [ "NAME OF TRIGGER" / ] and asterisks (**) around the triggering section. please tell us if u need something tagged
> 
> also i'm not 100% sure if trans-aral railway is the historically correct name for the railway yuri's taking but u know whatever 
> 
> anyway, enjoy! xx  
> \- mae

**10 July 1941**

**Trans-Aral Railway**

 

It’s been two days since we departed Leningrad, and nothing much has happened. The train car is nothing special. It’s far too small to hold the number of people in it. Basically, it’s a wooden box, with three doors and two windows. Well - technically, two of the doors aren’t even proper doors. They’re just openings on the sides of the car. The only real door is the one

Everyone is loud, and smelly, and have no sense of personal space. I often find myself sticking to the walls, staying away from the crowd. I’ve never really been one to interact with others, anyway.

I spend my days reading, talking with _Deda_ , and eating. At night, I find it hard to sleep. Laying on the cold, wooden floorboards gives me splinters and leaves me sore all over. Instead of resting, I’ve taken a liking to sitting in the empty doorway of the train car and watching the scenery.

As I look toward the horizon, the cool summer breeze blows my hair in my face, but I make no move to tie it back. It’s gotten long, reaching just past my shoulders. _Deda_ hates it.

Looking towards the horizon, I see the leaving sun slowly dip into a distant river as though engulfed by the water. Mesmerized, I watch as it dyes the heavens a bright orange and turns the water a deep blood red. The sky slowly turns crimson, deepens into a maroon and then lightens into a soft pink. A majestic purple signals twilight before I am enveloped in darkness. Sequin-silver stars wink at each other, as though they are close friends sharing an inside joke.

I must’ve fallen asleep, or lost track of time, because the next thing I know I’m being awoken by the blinding morning light, and somehow I’ve ended up in the back corner of the car; _Deda_ must’ve woken up in the middle of the night and moved me.

Sitting up, I stretch out my arms over my head, enjoying the satisfying pop that came with it. It seems that no one else is awake yet; hopefully, that means I can get some silent reading time for myself.

As of late, I’ve been reading _How the Steel Was Tempered_ , a novel by Nikolai Ostrovsky. It was given to me by an older boy that lived in my village. His name was Viktor. He wasn’t exactly a friend...but he’s the closest I’ve ever been to having one.

**[ SUICIDE MENT / ]**

** It doesn’t matter now, though. He joined the army - he might as well have put a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

Viktor Nikiforov is dead. **

-

Placing your trust in other people is useless. All throughout my life, those who I’ve become close to, who I’ve come to trust, just ended up leaving me, in one way or another. My father abandoned me. My mother got sick and died. My only friend joined the army and is most likely dead. It’s better to be alone, I’ve found.

Loneliness is addictive. Once you’ve seen how peaceful it is, you never want to deal with people again.

-

I wouldn’t say I’m starving or whatever, but I’m nearly dirt poor, and affording three meals a day is tough when you’re dirt poor. I admit that in my lifetime, I’ve stolen my fair share of bread from the bakery down the street. And I do have a small history of scamming people into giving me money and food. But that shouldn’t warrant me being suspected of every little thing that goes missing.

“I know it was you! You’re the Plisetsky kid that stole all that bread from Anastasiya’s bakery,” The guy bellows, gripping his empty coin sack in one fist. He’s not all that much taller than me, and probably my age, maybe a few years older. I could take him if it came to that.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” I gripe; _honestly_ what was wrong with this dude? “Why would I want your dirty money anyway - it’s probably tainted by your grimy hands.”

_Deda_ gives me a stern look. “Yuratchka, did you steal this boy’s money? Tell the truth.”

“I didn’t, I swear!” Does _no one_ believe me?

“Just admit to it, jackass,” The dude shoves me. I shove him back, getting up in his face.

“Hey, don’t fucking touch me.” I snarl at him. Bad move. He grabs my arm and pushes me, _hard_. I stumble backward and trip over a stray bag. As I fall, instead of hitting the wooden floorboards, I feel damp grass below me, and there's an excruciating pain in my right ankle as my body is rolled across the ground, coming to a halt slowly.

The last thing I see before blacking out is the freight train speeding away, taking _Deda_ and my last shred of hope of a good life with it.

-

**[ EMETOPHOBIA / ]**

When I finally come to, it's impossible to tell how long I've been unconscious. I open my eyes to a sky full of dark, looming clouds, and the ominous rumble of thunder warns of rain. My attempt to stand up fails as my injured ankle gives out halfway through, a scream tearing through me like a shard of broken glass. I collapse on the ground, my heart pounding relentlessly as if it was trapped inside of me, begging and pleading to burst right out of my chest. ** My stomach turns over and I'm hit with a wave of nausea - the bile of my empty stomach burns my throat as I cough it up. ** I can feel my cheek getting wet with tears. I don't remember the last time I've felt a pain so horrible that I've cried. Maybe it's simply something different from the pain I've been through my whole life.

Wiping my mouth, I lift myself up once more, slower this time. The pain is bearable, I convince myself, as I begin to walk, taking small baby steps. My ankle has to be broken - every step feels like it is being cut to the bone with a blunt knife. I have to keep going, I have to fight through the pain.

I won't stop until I find my grandfather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow us on tumblr  
> mae: junaiiper  
> iva: staring--eyes


	3. 02 // POV : OTABEK

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter, stage left, the hero of Kazakhstan, playing the role of our most dearest Kazakh officer, Otabek Altin !!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello, my name is iva, i'm the second author of this otayuri fic and i'm really glad that you've decided to give it a go !!
> 
> I've tried to do as much research as I could, both mae and I have, but there are probably going to be some inaccuracies ( i'm probably just reiterating what she's already stated ) but i hope they aren't too major and we keep most of it kind of historically true !!
> 
> i tried my best to do her way of tagging but if i missed something that needed to be tagged pls just message me and i'll totally get to doing that
> 
> i hope you have a lovely day and thank you again !!
> 
> \- iva ☆

**10 July 1941**

**Kostanay**

 

Patrolling the rails weren’t particularly the most enjoyable thing to be doing, but it sure as hell was better than being drafted to fight on the front lines. It wasn’t honorable to my family or anything, but I think they are rather glad that I’m not having to do something like that. It’s probably because the war started when I was younger, and at nineteen, I have yet to be told to join the real fight. So far it’s just been minor tasks, like right now. I have to say, this really is something that was much more appealing that basically being sent off with a death wish, and dying wasn’t high on the list of things I want to happen at this moment. What actually holds that place, is surviving.

 

Yes, I was grateful.

 

It was getting rather late now, though, a few of the trains full of evacuees had already sped passed, getting to their destination as fast as it could. None of the drivers probably wanted to be dealing with the Russians on there, but, allies must help allies, those of Kazakhstan needed to offer assistance to those of Russia so we could get that favor returned. It was the right thing to do anyway. Morally, as humans, we can’t just leave people in distress.

 

At this point, I was beginning to get tired and a little bit peckish too. Checking my watch, I knew that I could go home now, it was my time to go. The patrol officers could rotate now, but on a clear day such as this, it was hard to miss the collapsed form that was off in the distance, near the tracks.

 

That had me rather confused, only for a moment, though, before I realized that it was something that is ( or was, I don’t actually know which one yet ) living. I don’t know how long it had been there, it was so distant that it almost looked like a rock, but as I kept staring, the more it looked like a fallen animal. Of course, I had to go see what it was, standing around here like someone had just struck me with the stock of a rifle was not going to help anyone.

 

I began walking quickly but soon the speed gathered to a light jog when the fallen animal began looking much more like a person. The rocks and gravel below crunched rather audibly with each step I took, I was almost concerned that the noise I made was going to scare the person off but they only made the smallest movements. It didn’t take a genius to realize something really wasn’t right, I could tell from back there, but there were hardly any movements.

 

I began to worry, what if this was my fault? Had I realized someone was there earlier, then maybe they would have been alright. They could have been there for ages and I would have passed it off as another rock or something on the side of the road. This was my job, to watch the tracks, imagine if it was something worse.

 

Reaching the human, I shook my head. Those thoughts could be managed later, but right now, this person needed my attention. I crouched down and checked a pulse on their neck, his neck. There was a rather audible sigh of relief when I felt a pulse. This boy was alive. The rise and fall of his chest should have given that away but I was just a little on edge, I didn’t realize it at first.

 

**[ SLIGHTLY GRAPHIC EXPLANATION OF INJURIES / ]**

 

**My eyes trailed down, scanning for what was wrong, his foot was purple, that’s probably it. That definitely had to be something very bad. I lifted up the man's pant leg and it really wasn’t pretty. Not only was it utterly swollen where it would put a beach ball to shame. His ankle was twisting to the point where his foot wanted to face backward. A large bit of his flesh bumped, sticking out where most of the bruising was contained, purples, yellows, greens, it was utterly disgusting.** The groan that came from the blonde when I even moved his pant leg was guttural, it must be extremely painful.

 

I felt bad for him, whatever happened to him, it wasn’t good. How he ended up like this, I wouldn’t know. He needed serious medical treatment, but by the looks of him, he didn’t get here for a good reason, and I knew that I should be careful. Everywhere was a battlefield, and I had to be ready for anything. This was the point where the unconscious blonde wasn’t so unconscious anymore.

 

“Back...the fuck off...” His voice was weak, strained, but still, he attempted to snarl out his words. So he was trying to play tough guy, given his current situation, it’s probably all he could do as a defense mechanism to try and intimidate whatever opponent came against him. I, however, wasn’t trying to come off as an enemy right now, at the moment I decided that I can’t just leave someone in the state he was in. Surely he’d die, I couldn’t allow that.

 

No, it was time to take initiative and calm him down. The piercing glare that his icy blue eyes wore could stab into any man’s soul. If looks could kill, surely I’d be seven feet into my grave right now, he certainly had the eyes of a soldier.

 

“Calm down...I’m not going to hurt you,” I mutter, trying to keep a flat expression. It would be the worst moment to scare him away now, so I keep my tone relatively gentle. It’s all I can think to do when the shorter male looks like he’s just about ready to rip out someone’s lungs and feast on them. He was probably scared, though, I was guessing anyway. Anyone would be scared collapsed with an ankle as wrecked as his was at that moment.

 

He hissed a few angry slurs in my direction but I easily brushed over them, I was a big boy, I could handle it. I kept my hands where they were, but continued to use my words in efforts to ease the riled up boy.

 

“You need to get your ankle fixed, I can help.”

 

Outstretching my hand slowly, I allowed him to grab it. I kept it at a safe distance though ( in case he bit, I rather liked my fingers where they were, attached to my hand ). He just seemed to stare, it felt like an eternity before he spoke up once again.

 

“I don’t think… just your hand is going to help me in this s-situation-” His words sounded bitter and his voice was feeble and shaky from how it must have hurt, but he seemed to be accepting the help because despite what he said, he still took a hold of my hand. That was good, that’s what was needed, It would have been difficult if he told me to piss off because I wouldn’t have, and a dispute might have started, but as stated before, I am not going to leave someone on their own when they’re like this.

 

The corners of my mouth cocked into the smallest smile. It didn’t take a lot of convincing, but he probably knew that, in his situation, he didn’t have a lot of say in what happened either. He wouldn’t be getting anywhere with his foot like that. Survival would be very difficult with a busted ankle.

 

“Just be careful,” I told him.

 

Saying no more, I moved to carefully grab him so I could lift him. There were many protests from the blonde. He obviously didn’t like being lifted. Honestly, I was mostly grateful for the fact that he wasn’t that heavy. This boy was, most certainly, skin and bones; they were definitely sticking into my sides as I held him. It was tolerable, though, I only had to last until we got home.

 

He landed one weak strike right in the middle of my chest, there was no power in it and it didn’t hurt, but it seemed like he was making the point that being lifted was not one of his favorite things. To get his point across, he added on a string of complaints with it. At least it was his bark that was worse than his bite, but I’m sure if he wanted, he could do some damage.

 

I took my first step forwards, watching the expressions that the one in my arms made. He hissed slightly from that step. Obviously, the slight bump that it made hurt him, and the blonde made it clear to me with a glare. If I didn’t realize before, I should know now because he also added that glare with another whine. I needed to be much more cautious with how I step. It didn’t stop the endless, irritated comments, though.

  
This was a long trip with the constant whining from the taller male, I really prepared myself for it.

**Author's Note:**

> follow us on tumblr  
> mae: junaiiper  
> iva: staring--eyes


End file.
